


The Stomach, Not the Heart

by DeathStricken (douchebagmcpickle)



Category: Archer (Cartoon)
Genre: Kissing, M/M, Makeouts, Oneshot, archer gets shot, archer is gay and he knows it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-08
Updated: 2016-07-08
Packaged: 2018-07-22 07:15:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7425208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/douchebagmcpickle/pseuds/DeathStricken
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Archer gets shot in the stomach after their cover is blown, leaving Ray to remove the bullet and clean the wound, as well as keep them hidden.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Stomach, Not the Heart

**Author's Note:**

> First Archer fic whoop!

“Careful- ow! I said careful!”

“I am being careful! Maybe if you shut up and stopped moving it wouldn’t hurt so damn much.” 

“Or maybe if you were more careful it wouldn’t- OW, Ray!” 

A bead of sweat rolled down Ray’s temple. He wiped it away, smearing some of Archer’s blood on his forehead in the process. 

“Either you let me take this bullet out and stop complaining or we call for extraction and you let Krieger take it out.”

Archer coughed, blood splattering into his palm. His other hand gripped the front of Ray’s shirt. His face was pale and drenched in sweat. He had already lost a lot of blood. 

Their cover had been blown and they were suddenly getting shot at, too suddenly for either of them to get their guns out to shoot back. And too suddenly for Archer to avoid getting shot in the stomach. Ray helped Archer to the back seats of a nearby car and drove off, driving for what felt like hours. His head was swimming, black spots dancing across his vision. He held his wadded up shirt against the wound, feeling the fabric soak through with his blood. Ray eventually pulled over and crawled into the back with a first aid kit. 

“No, don’t call for extraction,” Archer rasped. He grabbed the head rest of the passenger's seat and pulled himself back to lean against the door. He groaned, letting his head fall back against the window. “I’d rather die here than let Krieger turn me into a cyborg.” 

Ray pulled a bottle out of the first aid kit. “He’s not going to turn you into a cyborg, and you’re not going to die here. Your mother would be so far up my ass if I let you die.” He opened the bottle and tipped it upside down over a small cloth, letting the fabric absorb the liquid. “Alright, this is gonna sting. A lot.” He gently pressed the alcohol soaking cloth against the wound. 

Archer let out a scream of pain. “What the shit, Ray!” He released the other’s shirt to hold the seats on either side of him. 

“I told you it was going to hurt,” Ray said, then pulled out a pair of tweezers. “I had to sterilize the wound. Now I’m going to actually pull out the bullet. It’s not very deep, so I think I can pull it out in one go.” 

“I think I’m gonna pass out,” Archer murmured, looking up at the ceiling of the car. 

“Don’t pass out, Archer,” Ray said, grabbing his chin, angling his head to look at him. Archer’s eyes were unfocused, slightly glazed over. 

“I’m gonna pass out,” Archer said again, his words slightly slurred. 

“Don’t pass out!” 

“Ray, I’m sorry,” his eyes fell closed, then opened again, slowly. 

“Archer, look at me,” Ray urged, patting his cheek. 

“I’m sorry for getting you paralyzed so many times.”

“Archer stop-”

“Shut up. I’m trying to make piece.” 

Ray rolled his eyes and wiped away the blood from the wound. Archer’s chested jerked with a sharp inhale. He readied the tweezers, looking up at Archer. “One three. One-”

“Ray, wait-”

“Two.”

“Ray!”

“Three.”

Archer opened his mouth to scream, but his sounds were muffled when Ray pressed his lips against his. Archer’s eyes went wide, confused, surprised and in pain. He felt Ray pressing the cloth against his stomach. Then his eyes fell shut and his hand made it’s way into Ray’s hair as he kissed back, hungry and explorative. 

The pain faded away as he moved into Ray’s touch, feeling the other man’s hand moving up his chest, then along his jaw. He relished in the unfamiliar feeling of rough, calloused hands on his skin, and the mustache brushing against his upper lip. For the first time, he let himself be dominated and he went with it. 

He felt Ray move on top of him, straddling his hips. He felt a nibble on his lower lip and when he parted his lips, Ray’s tongue was in his mouth. There was another man’s tongue in his mouth and he didn’t have a problem with it. 

Archer pulled back to catch his breath. Ray went in for more; a kiss to the side of his mouth, down along his jaw. He kissed and nibbled at his neck. Archer bit the inside of his cheek to keep back a moan.

And then the pain came back. 

“S-stitches,” he muttered, one hand gripping the passenger’s seat headrest. 

“Hm?”

“Stitches, I need stitches.” 

Ray pulled back, his cheeks tinted pink. “Oh, uh, yeah.” He wiped the side of his mouth, blood coming off on his thumb. “Is this mine or yours?”

“Probably mine. I’d get tested if I were you,” Archer said, barely able to contain his smirk. 

“Wha- dammit, Archer!”

“I’m kidding!” 

Ray wiped his thumb on his pants and pulled out the kit, readying the needle and thread to stitch the wound in his stomach. 

“No, but seriously, you should get tested.” 

Needless to say, Ray was not gentle on the stitching, and he didn’t tell Archer about the bottle of booze stashed under the seat.

**Author's Note:**

> For more general gayness, follow deathstricken.tumblr.com!


End file.
